‘As you wish,’ Aaron says, and smiles.
This is so a huge deal.
Cal’s made snacks. Lots of snacks. And drinks. There’s crisps, cake, dips even, all set out on the dining-room table, next to where Cal’s got his guitar out. If Dad didn’t get so weird about boys in my room, Cal could’ve come to mine to practise, but it’s good he’s started thinking about having people over to his house again.
Esi’s sitting by the dips but she jumps up when we walk in and hugs me while the boys shake hands. Boys are so weird. I let go of Esi and give Cal a big hug too. ‘Hey! You didn’t need to do all this.’ I gesture at the food.
He shrugs. His ears have gone super red.
‘Where’s your mum?’ I say.
‘Doing a shift.’ Cal’s mum’s a nurse.
‘That’s good, isn’t it? That she’s back at work?’
Aaron mutters something about needing the toilet and wanders off and I can’t help but think what a sensitive gesture it is, to give Cal some space to talk if he needs to. Aaron knows all about Cal’s mum; I told him the other week.
‘Yeah, I think she’s doing better,’ Cal says, his face hopeful, but I can see shadows smudged around his eyes. I pat him on the shoulder.
‘You’re doing great,’ I say. Esi gives him a sympathetic smile.
Aaron comes back in and I pull my hand away from Cal. I’m aware of Esi watching and get a stab of annoyance; I hope she’s not going to be weird like in the cafe yesterday. But she just says mildly, ‘You getting on with it then?’ and opens her book.
Aaron settles at the other end of the table to Esi and pulls out his phone. I pick up my guitar and we begin. There’s one or two dodgy notes from me; I’ve never been able to hit the highest ones with enough power, but Cal sounds amazing.
By the end of the last run-through, I’m fizzing. Our voices go so well together.
‘We’ve got something here, I really think we do,’ I say. We both look at Esi.
‘Umm, yeah it was … pretty,’ she says.
I have to stop myself frowning. I know she doesn’t like country, but if she’s not got anything more constructive to add I don’t even get why she’s here.
To support you, a little voice goes off inside my head. It’s true, Esi’s always been really supportive, even going back to that time I thought it would be a good idea to make homemade lemonade and sell it. I was purely doing it for a profit – think I’d wanted a new Barbie or something – but Esi insisted we should give the money to charity. Neither of us really thought it through though: in mid-summer, people wanted ice creams, not lukewarm stuff that looked a bit like wee from two ten-year-olds. I don’t think we even got back what Esi’s mum paid for the ingredients, but she said Esi could donate the money we made anyway.
No, Esi’s a good person. Way better than me. But sometimes, she needs to live a bit.
‘I think it’s brilliant,’ Aaron says. I smile at him, but I still feel the sense something’s not quite right with the song. Then it comes to me.
‘It needs more twang,’ I say.
Esi laughs. ‘What?’
‘It’s when—’ I break off, because I’ve tried to explain it to her before. ‘Never mind.’ I bend to fiddle with the amp. ‘You need a Tele really,’ I say, looking at my guitar. Then I realise, it’s also our voices. Both of them together, that is. Cal has a more classical voice and he somehow seems to be pulling me with him.
‘OK. We need to get more twang into you,’ I say.
Esi sniggers.
‘Oh shut up, you know what I mean.’
‘I really don’t,’ she says, still laughing.
I turn to Cal. ‘Just more …’ I sing a few notes. ‘Try and sing like you’re a duck.’ He copies me and now I have to laugh.
‘That just sounds like you’re singing through your nose.’
‘Oh.’ For a second Cal looks crestfallen. I’m taken aback; he’s usually so chilled. Then, to my surprise, Esi drops her book and jumps up.
‘My favourite sauce is hoisin,’ she says, in the worst duck voice ever. We all burst out laughing and then everyone’s trying it together, making more and more ridiculous noises until Cal’s bent over, wheezing. Even Aaron has a go, kind of. When Cal straightens up and starts to sing again, it totally works. I pick up my guitar and we sing together, Cal picking out the new melody he’s added. And this time, something clicks. The song comes alive. I’m so excited I grab one of his hands as we finish. I can feel it; this song is going to be something special.
Esi says, ‘You know, that was pretty good. I liked it.’ Which is a lot coming from her.
‘It was way better than good,’ Aaron says from right by my shoulder.
I jump, I almost forgot he was here. Music does that to me, takes me somewhere else. It’s one of the things I love about it. Aaron takes my hand out of Cal’s and gives it a squeeze.
‘We could maybe just switch that bit here,’ Cal points to the scribbled-on sheet music. ‘You go low?’
‘OK, let’s try it.’ I take a swig of Coke, then we start up again. This time it’s even better and by the end of another twenty minutes we’re almost perfect. As soon as we finish, I leap over and give Cal a hug. ‘That was so great! You’re a genius, Callington Cal-Cal.’ We both grin. When I was a lot younger, I used to give everyone silly names. For a whole term, Cal was Callington Cal-Cal of Callingsborough. God only knows why. But it was funny.
‘And you too, Gem-Gem,’ Cal says as he lets go.
Esi rolls her eyes.
‘You know what? I think we’ve got a chance of getting through,’ I say.
‘You kidding? We’re going to crush it.’
A little while later Aaron says he needs to get back so we pack up and say bye to Cal and Esi. ‘See you at college tomorrow,’ I say to Cal. ‘We can have another run through at lunchtime?’
‘I’ll sort out the music room,’ he says.
‘Awesome.’
I’m so hyped up with our success I chat most of the way home before realising Aaron is super quiet. And also driving like Dad does when he’s in a mood. I trail off as we practically take a corner on two wheels.
There’s silence for a minute, then I say, ‘Sorry, I was going on a bit, wasn’t I?’
Aaron still doesn’t say anything.
‘I’m just really excited. Thank you for taking me there. Hope it wasn’t too boring for you?’
We’re nearly at the bottom of the track now. Aaron pulls over and gives me an odd look. ‘No, it was very interesting.’ I’m not sure what it is about the way he says ‘interesting’ but I get a sudden sense I’ve done something wrong. I frown at him, but before I can say anything his face kind of clears and he gives me a quick kiss. ‘This is your stop, little lady,’ he says in the worst attempt at a Southern drawl I think I’ve ever heard.
I laugh. ‘You know, you really need to reassess your life choices. You should be an actor,’ I say, as deadpan as I can manage.
Aaron winks. ‘As you wish.’
I give him another kiss, then I go up the track to get ready for yet another football-filled evening.
Chapter Seventeen
Aaron
There’s a tsunami of thoughts in my brain, too fast, too strong to push back:
She’s not Cherine.
She hugged him. Twice.
It was a friend hug, nothing else.
Was it?
He’s clearly got a massive fucking crush on her.
Does she like him?
The way she looked at him when she was singing.
He called her Gem. Did she even notice? She didn’t, did she? She’s just naive. Can’t see what’s in front of her face. Because she’s not Cherine. She’s not built like that.
Let him call her Gem, she’s still mine.
Is she mine?
She’s not Cherine.
She’s not Cherine.
She’s not—
Chapter Eighteen
Gemma
&n
bsp; Esi: Hey that was great earlier, really.
Gemma: Thanks.
Esi: You at post-match dinner now?
Gemma: Yep.
Esi: I forgot to ask – Did he win?
Gemma: Nope
Esi: Uh-oh.
Gemma: Yeah, Dad’s being Dad. I’d better stop texting.
Esi: OK. See you in the morning? Want to tell you something.
I send a thumbs-up emoji, then put my phone down, but not before catching Dad’s frown.
‘Do you have to be attached to that thing at all times?’ he says.
For a minute, it’s on the edge of my tongue to say, ‘What, like you and the football results?’ because Dad’s literally always got the TV or radio on. But I don’t want him to confiscate my phone or anything so I say, ‘Sorry,’ and shut up. Michael gives me a partially sympathetic and partially grateful look; he’s not the sort of person who likes seeing anyone else get into trouble, but then it does shift the flak away from him.
As if he’s sensing what I’m thinking, Michael says, ‘You all ready for your audition?’ which shows at least one member of my family pays attention to something I say.
I chat about it for a bit but before long Dad’s turned the conversation back to football so I give Michael a ‘Sorry, I tried’ look and go back to texting under the table.
The next morning, I knock for Esi and we head down the track together. She’s kind of quiet; usually I’m the grumpier one in the mornings, so it takes until we get about halfway down for me to realise she’s only giving one-word answers as I talk about guitars. I’d kill for a new one ahead of the audition because mine’s pretty rubbish. My dream guitar’s a Gibson, not that I’m likely to afford one of those any time this century. I stop and face her. ‘You OK?’ I ask.
She gazes back, like she’s working out how to say something.
‘You wanted to chat yesterday?’ I say. Then because I can’t help myself, ‘It’s not about Aaron is it?’
‘What? Oh for heaven’s sake, Gemma. Not everything is about your new boyfriend.’
I take a slow breath, let it trickle out. ‘OK. What then?’
‘It’s …’ She looks unsure of herself suddenly. Like I think she might even cry, and the last time I saw Esi cry was when we were about ten. We were building a base in her living room and she swung a blanket up a bit too enthusiastically and smashed the glass light shade. I lied and said it was me, even though Esi told me not to.
‘What?’ I’m alarmed now.
‘I need to tell you … there’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I’m pretty sure it’s … that I …’ She trails off.
The urge to scream ‘You’re what?’ is pretty powerful right now, but I somehow manage to restrain myself.
‘It’s OK. You can tell me.’ I wait for a moment. ‘Or like, when you’re ready.’
She lets out a laugh. ‘I’m not sure I am. The thing is—’
Just at that moment a horn blasts right behind us. We jump in unison.
It’s the first time I haven’t been totally happy to see Aaron. He leans out of the car, giving us that smile of his. ‘You gals want a lift?’ Oh God, this is also the first time I’ve wished he wouldn’t do the voices.
Still, I can’t help wavering; he looks so cute this morning. Esi’s stiffened beside me.
‘Oh – I thought I texted we were getting the bus this morning?’ I say.
Aaron’s face closes down for a moment, then he says, ‘Sorry, thought I’d surprise you.’ There’s a hint of something in his voice I can’t quite work out, like I’ve hurt his feelings maybe.
‘You can go if you like,’ Esi says, and there’s definitely more than a hint of something in her voice. Suddenly I feel like one of those rubber stretchy toys, pulled tight. I look between them, hesitating, and see a flash of sadness in Esi’s face. Then the bus comes up behind Aaron – who’s parked in the bus stop – and beeps.
‘You coming?’ Aaron says. And seeing as Esi’s already walking fast towards the bus I get in his car.
I text her on the way in, but she responds with a brief It’s fine. Aaron spends ages finding a parking space. Then there’s the whole kissing-a-proper-good-morning when we do get one, so that I end up with only five minutes before my first lesson. I duck into the refectory with Aaron, but the place is already emptying out. I wave at Cal going the other way, and spot Esi deep in conversation with Phoebe. They stop talking as I go up to them, Esi jumping up and saying, ‘The bell’s about to go,’ then hurrying off.
So I take myself to Biology alone and try not to worry about it.
At lunchtime, Aaron’s waiting in the corridor as I emerge from my lesson. We kiss and then he links arms with me as we walk towards the refectory. Some of the group are already there – Rach, Cal and Beth – but not Esi. I check my phone; she hasn’t texted.
‘Want to sit with us?’ Aaron says – gesturing over to the knoboons. It’s not hugely appealing; that is, until I see the blonde girl waving at Aaron and feel a little ripple of – not quite jealousy, but something that feels vulnerable.
I look back again, but still can’t see Esi, only Cal looking my way. ‘OK,’ I say. I give Cal a quick wave, and follow Aaron over.
As soon as I get there, I reckon I’ve made the right choice just by the look on Blondie’s face. She’s definitely not happy to see me. Aaron introduces me around and everyone says hi. I sit next to Aaron, getting the measure of the group, and after a while I relax a bit. The lads, who seemed intimidating in their loudness from a distance are really just like Robbie Wellings from back at school and I know how to handle those. The one with piggy eyes – Jonny – leans forward and says, ‘So guess who I saw in town the other day? Hayley Jones. She was well into me. Not that I’d go there, mate.’ He makes a crude gesture and manages to raise a couple of laughs. Not on. Hayley Jones managed to get a reputation among some of the boys because she once, stupidly I agree, sent some topless pictures to a little arsehole just like Jonny, who then sent them round the whole school. There was a talk we had to go to about respect, cyber bullying, all of that. We all felt sorry for her – well, most of the girls did. Some joined in calling her a slag. Now I remember, it’s one of the things that started off Esi’s whole feminism thing.
‘Are you talking about a wet dream or was this just a fictional conversation? Because last I heard, Hayley moved away for college,’ I say to Jonny. ‘And I’m not sure you’d be her type, to be fair.’ The whole table erupts into laughter, the blonde girl, Selina, included. And just like that I’m one of the lads. Especially when I win three games of table football in a row.
I’m doing a little victory dance when I see Esi coming into the refectory, finally, with Phoebe. They’re walking kind of close, which I wouldn’t normally notice, except that Beth stands up in a hurry and walks off, Phoebe running after her. What’s that all about? I want to go over, but lunch is nearly finished and I need to get to Psychology.
Later, Esi’s already left on the early bus by the time I get out, so Aaron gives me another lift home.
When we’re at the lights waiting to turn to go up towards the cliff road, Aaron looks at me softly and says, ‘Did you want to come back to mine?’
I’m so close to saying yes. We stare at each other, my heart going hard in my chest. But something’s holding me back. Maybe it’s Jonny and the lads from earlier. It’s not that I don’t trust Aaron, I know he’s not like that, but sleeping with him is … well it’s a big step.
‘I think … I’d like to …’
‘But?’
‘But maybe I’m not ready yet.’
Aaron nods, puts one hand to my hair and gives me a light kiss on the forehead. ‘I just … I’ve never met anyone like you before and – this is something different. Rare, you know?’
He wraps his arms around me as best he can, given we’re both wearing seatbelts, and it feels so right, like I’m safe with him, protected. Like my heart’s singing. When he pulls over at the bo
ttom of the track we kiss again, one of his hands sliding up under my top. ‘You sure you won’t come back with me?’ he whispers in my ear.
‘Soon,’ I say, and he leans forward to kiss me hard.
Eventually, I manage to push a hand up between us and give him a little nudge. He pulls back and kind of groans. ‘You’re so gorgeous, I can’t keep my hands off you,’ he says.
I laugh, even though I feel the same. ‘You’re going to have to, mister – I need to get home.’
He groans again, then says, ‘OK.’
Everything’s still buzzing inside as I go up the track.
Chapter Nineteen
Gemma
‘You can’t park here,’ Cal says.
Aaron grunts and swings his car in on some double yellows anyway. We’re here, at the audition, which is being held in a posh-looking hotel, all shining glass in the sun.
‘You two jump out and I’ll find somewhere,’ he says. ‘I’ll text.’
We get out and Aaron pulls off into the traffic as I wave and blow him a kiss. He toots his horn and I turn to Cal.
‘Oh God, are you nervous? I’m nervous.’
‘It’ll be fine. You’ve written an amazing song, we’ve practised. I can totally do twayang …’ He stretches out the word. ‘It’s all good.’
I square my shoulders, hoist up my guitar and in we go.
There’s a super-glamorous girl on the reception desk, processing a queue of people with lightning efficiency.
‘We’re running ten minutes behind, but it shouldn’t be too long to wait,’ she says, and hands us some numbers to pin on our outfits. Before we know it, we’re signed in and ushered into a holding room with a handful of other people. I look around, wondering who might be going through. There are twenty slots for the regional final, but well over a hundred acts auditioning today, which I suppose is not the worst odds. And ‘Sea Dreams’ is such a good song, I can feel it. Good enough to beat the other people here? I scan the room again. The others are a mixed bag: some look like they were singing country before I was born – one guy with long grey hair and a beard strumming a guitar in the corner must be in his sixties at least. He has a seasoned air, like he’s used to playing in pubs and clubs. Then two girls my age with matching cowboy boots and confident expressions doing some warm-up exercises. They sound really good – professional and slick. I bet they go somewhere like Portsmouth College. There’s a lad standing on his own in a button-down shirt who looks a little bit like Aaron.
I Hold Your Heart Page 10